


(in)complete circuit

by rarmaster



Category: Xenoblade Chronicles, Xenoblade Chronicles 2 (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, aegis siblings, malos isn't in the first chapter but mark my words. he Will be
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-17
Updated: 2018-11-17
Packaged: 2019-08-24 17:59:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16645088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rarmaster/pseuds/rarmaster
Summary: At the dawn of a united world, their eldest brother waits for them.





	(in)complete circuit

**Author's Note:**

> i have ideas for future chapters from here but for now take this and pray that adhd won't prevent me from picking this up ever again

It’s hard to say anything, really, about the new world they end up in. The sea is endless. There’s nothing in sight.

“I suppose I’ll just keep flying,” Azurda tells the group, cheerfully. “We’ll have to hit land sooner or later, right?”

Pyra knows there’s a theoretical possibility they could fly around the entire planet and not hit a landmass, depending on how the continents on this new world are spread out, but doesn’t voice the thought. No one would appreciate it, probably. (Also, it’s weird, to think about continents and not titans, because she barely knows what that means, except some sort of knowledge—new or remembered, she can’t tell—is flitting into her mind ever since they arrived and it makes sense to think of things in these terms even if she’s never heard of them before.)

Besides, Pyra is a little distracted. She sits apart from the group on Azurda’s back, running her fingers over the stone she holds in her lap. It’s warm, but distantly, and completely dark. She doesn’t expect anything different, though it still saddens her for reasons she can’t complain.

“Is that- _Malos_ ’?” Nia hisses, over Pyra’s shoulder.

Pyra jumps and hastily hides the dormant core crystal between her legs, as if Nia already hasn’t seen it. Nia at least asked quietly, but Pyra darts her eyes around to make sure no one else is close enough to hear or see.

“ _Pyra_ ,” Nia presses, and it’s hard to say no to that voice.

“Yes,” Pyra whispers, gesturing for Nia to be quiet, and then come closer. Back turned to the rest of the group and facing the endless ocean and sky, shielded slightly by the ridges on Azurda’s back, Pyra produces the crystal for Nia to see. “I know… I shouldn’t have picked it up, but. I don’t know. I couldn’t leave him there.”

“Hmm,” Nia says. She stares at Pyra, eyes wide and unblinking, definitely judging. But then her face softens. “Guess I understand that. He wasn’t all bad.” Her tone is a little distant, a little wistful, and Pyra aches to know all the things about the Torna Nia knew before Nia left it, but she’s not going to ask, not right now. “Still…”

She’s still judging. Pyra hunches her shoulders.

“I can’t explain it,” she whispers. The pull she feels in her, like a broken conduit, her in one slot and Malos in another. It’s hard to ignore a sensation like that, especially when the sensation includes Mythra in another slot of that same conduit. She thinks it has something to do with being Aegises? The sensation is there, but not the words to describe it.

“Hey, maybe he’ll be nicer if his driver isn’t a complete shitbag,” Nia offers. “Or maybe he’ll never wake up.”

“Don’t say that,” Pyra hisses, the mere notion making her chest clutch more than it has any right to. She can’t explain it. But Malos, he’s… he’s her…

The word slips through her fingers.

Nia recoils, looking surprised, but she holds her hands up. “Sorry,” she says, and she sounds genuine. “I just mean, his crystal—it looks. I dunno. Kinda like he might not be waking up anytime soon, that’s for sure.”

Pyra agrees softly to that sentiment. She can’t explain why the idea makes her so sad.

She opens her mouth to make Nia promise not to tell anyone, but before she forms even a syllable there’s a very new and yet somehow very familiar sensation filling her mind. Some kind of signal. She pings the signal before she realizes that’s even a thing she can do, let alone make the conscious decision to do it. On the opposite side of Azurda’s back, Mythra leaps to her feet.

“What the hell,” Mythra says, a statement more than a question. Pyra slips Malos’ crystal back into her pocket and gets to her feet, pushing past Zeke to join Mythra.

“Did you feel it too?” she asks.

“Yeah. I think it’s- hm.” Mythra pauses, like she can’t quite find the words to describe the sensation. She’s scowling, but that’s not new. She hates not understanding things. “I can’t remember. I mean, I can, but it’s. Distant. Where have I felt this before?”

“I don’t know,” Pyra says. The imagery of a broken conduit comes back to her, except with a fourth slot that something she doesn’t know the name of is attached to. She pings it again, hoping for a response, not sure what response she’s expecting or why she keeps trying, only knowing that it feels… right.

“Why the hell won’t he respond,” Mythra growls. She leaps onto the ridge of Azurda’s neck before Pyra can ask who _he_ is, even though that feels right, too. “Azurda!!” Mythra calls, over the flap of his wings and the wind. “Change directions! I know which way we need to be going!”

“What is she on about?” Rex asks, squinting up at her.

“There’s a signal,” Pyra explains, because she knows that much.

“What kind of signal?” Morag asks.

“I don’t think it matters. Having any sense of direction certainly beats flying aimlessly over this endless ocean,” Brighid says, her tone dry as always, though it _does_ have a slight edge in it. As a fire-blade, Pyra can understand the sentiment. Being over this much water is certainly more unsettling than being over the cloud sea.

Mythra hops back down, eyes only for Pyra. “He should be pinging us back, and I don’t know why he hasn’t yet,” she huffs. She folds her arms over her chest, scowling deeply. “It’s unlike him.”

“Unlike who?” Pyra asks.

Mythra blinks. Then she blushes, turning her face away as she scowls twice as deeply. “I don’t- I don’t know,” she admits. “The memories are fuzzy. But this is. Familiar. Like- you know when we talked to Father? Like that. Ugh! I wish I could remember better!” She doesn’t stomp her feet, but she looks like she wants to. She settles for pounding a fist against her own thigh instead.

Pyra pings again.

There’s a response.

 _Be patient,_ it says, persistent but gentle.

 _I’ll meet you on the beach,_ it says.

Pyra has a sense of how far away the signal is, now. It’ll be maybe five minutes before they reach its source, at the speed they’re going. It’s really not that long, but it feels like an eternity. Pyra wilts under the prospect, while Mythra bristles.

“Well he doesn’t have to be so smug about it,” she grumbles.

“Who’s being smug?” Rex asks, confused but close to demanding. “What are you two going on about?”

“The signal,” Mythra explains. “It’s- Pyra, help me out!”

“I think I remember less than you,” Pyra argues, a little frustrated. That sensation of a broken conduit doesn’t feel… broken, anymore, though. Or it feels _less_ broken. It stirs something deep in her mind, some kind of something that might be a memory. She can’t grasp the sensation long enough to make sense of it.

“Uggghhhh,” Mythra groans. She pounds a fist against her thigh again. “It’s just- it was so long ago, but. I remember. Being- I don’t remember _where._ But. _Somewhere._ With Father. With…” Her face scrunches up. Gets kind of sad. “There were others. It was me and it was… there were three of us. Me and…”

“Logos and Ontos,” Pyra whispers, Mythra’s attempts to grasp for an explanation sparking a more recent memory in her mind, Father whispering of the Trinity Processor. “If… if Malos is Logos.”

“Ontos,” Mythra says, eyes snapping towards his signal, again. “Our…”

“…brother,” Pyra finishes. The word doesn’t elude her this time. She brushes her fingers over her pocket.

“ _Brother_?” Rex asks, reeling backwards.

“Yep!” Mythra says. She sounds a little bitter.

“One of two, actually,” Pyra adds, smiling nervously.

“Malos is the other,” Nia says, deadpan. Pyra can feel her eyes digging into her skull. She giggles nervously and shrugs, turning to send Nia an apologetic look. She hopes she can convey silently that she found the reason she couldn’t leave Malos just laying on the floor to Nia, since Nia’s the only one right now who knows she has his core crystal. Nia glares, but it’s soft enough Pyra thinks Nia got the idea.

“ _Malos_ is your brother,” Rex repeats, looking between his blades. Mythra bristles and doesn’t turn around. Pyra offers her apologetic smile to him, as well, but after the initial shock Rex relaxes, looks a little sad. “Man, now I wish we’d tried a little harder to save him… I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Mythra says. She sounds as aloof as she always tries to, but there is a sadness in her tone that probably only Pyra catches.

Malos’ crystal seems to burn in Pyra’s pocket, for how aware of it she is.

“Actually,” Pyra says, but—

“Ah, here we are!” Azurda calls. “I spot land!”

“The beach!” Mythra relays, quickly. “Land on the beach!”

Azurda does as soon as he can. Mythra leaps immediately off his back and moves determinedly to the lone figure on the beach. Pyra… isn’t far after her, though she does _think_ about at least apologizing to Rex and Nia, only to find her body has deposited her on the sand before she could tell it to. Oh well. They can get their explanations later. She’s too eager to see her brother, again.

It’s a strange and foreign thing, that eagerness, since she doesn’t really _remember_ her brother, but she cannot deny its persistence. Perhaps even the lack of memory makes her more eager to meet him.

Mythra stops before she reaches Ontos, sending a look over her shoulder back to Pyra. Pyra jogs a little to fall into step with her sister, somehow knowing Mythra’s nervousness. She wishes Mythra wouldn’t be nervous. They approach Ontos together.

“Hello there,” Ontos calls. He waves, before returning his hand to his hip—a position Pyra recognizes from Mythra. There’s a kind of cocky pull to his smile, but his expression mainly looks like he might be nervous, too.

“Ontos,” Mythra says, by way of greeting. She sounds somewhere between annoyed and flustered, but that’s natural.

Pyra smiles and waves back. “Hello,” she says.

Ontos nods. “Pneuma?” he asks.

“It’s… Mythra, actually,” Mythra says.

Ontos nods again. He looks away from her to Pyra, and Pyra wonders how she should explain herself—because there didn’t _used_ to be four of them, and calling Mythra out by explaining her existence makes Pyra kind of feel like a jerk. She supposes maybe she should just give her name, but Ontos speaks again.

“Logos?” he asks, squinting at her like he knows that’s not right but isn’t quite sure.

Pyra hastily shakes her head. “No, no. Also Pneuma,” she explains, embarrassed, looking for the words, looking to Mythra for help. Mythra grimaces, eyes pleading not to have to do the explanation. “Um,” Pyra says, not that she wants to explain, either.

“I understand,” Ontos says, before she can. He hesitates before he continues his explanation. “Your memories have been… relayed to me, ever since your arrival. So you have no need to explain.”

“Oh,” Pyra and Mythra say in unison.

Pyra thinks she might find this a little weirder if something in her core didn’t tell her that this was the way it had always been, between them, the nature of their link to Ontos.

“Anyway, um, my name’s Pyra,” Pyra offers.

“Alvis,” Ontos says, and it takes Pyra an embarrassing second to realize that he means that to be _his_ name.

He— _Alvis—_ pauses a second, eyes flicking over Pyra and Mythra’s shoulders. Pyra turns to see what he’s looking at. Rex is directing their party away from them, which fills Pyra with fondness and gratefulness. He’s a good kid. And she supposes she appreciates the time alone, with her brother and her sister. It’s been… so long.

Since what? The Trinity Processor, Pyra’s memory supplies without difficulty this time. Since they were together. The three of them, and Father, and…

And Mother.

The realization she remembers nothing about her mother fills Pyra with an indescribable sadness. She turns to Alvis, kind of wanting to ask about her, because maybe he remembers what she cannot. Turning to Alvis, though, makes Pyra notice where his gaze is fixed now. Her… pocket?

Oh.

“Where is Logos?” Alvis asks, sounding distracted.

“Malos,” Pyra corrects, as Mythra answers: “Dead.”

Pyra licks her lips. Alvis raises his eyebrows.

“Actually,” Pyra says, and she reaches into her pocket to retrieve her other brother’s core crystal. It’s still completely dark, barely warm to the touch. Mythra jolts at the sight of it.

“What are you _doing_ with that!?” she demands, voice pitching upwards in her anger.

“I couldn’t just _leave_ him,” Pyra argues softly.

Mythra glares, but after a moment, she softens as well.

“Guess you couldn’t have,” she relents.

Alvis considers them a moment, eyebrows raised. Pyra can’t tell if he’s judging, or simply curious. Slowly, he reaches out his hand.

“May I?” he asks.

Pyra hesitates, but then… if there’s anyone she can trust with Malos, it’s him, isn’t it?

She offers out the dormant crystal, and with careful hands, Alvis takes it from her. He runs his fingers over the surface, and a ripple of purple pulses along the stone before it goes dark again. Alvis’ eyes narrow, and he sighs softly, like maybe he’s disappointed. Pyra understands, disappointment taking her after the rush of excitement elicited by the glimmer of a reaction ebbs away in her.

The conduit in her mind plays an unfinished song. Ping ping ping stop. Ping ping ping stop. Not broken but still incomplete, at least as long as Malos is offline.

“I don’t know when he’ll wake up,” Pyra whispers.

“Or if he’ll even _want_ to,” Mythra adds, a little sharp, a little bitter. She’s got her arms crossed, and Pyra knows her well enough to know she’s uncomfortable. “I mean, come on, Pyra. Would you, after all that? I know I wouldn’t.”

The bitterness flows into Pyra’s chest, even though she and Mythra do not share any kind of emotional bleed anymore. She chooses not to think about it.

“Well… If he does, I think I have a driver for him that he might like,” Alvis says, handing Malos’ crystal back to Pyra. She takes it, though she feels kind of silly, having somehow accidentally taken the role of Malos’ caretaker. She doesn’t mind, she supposes, but it’s a little… awkward? “Oh, unless one of your party would prefer to take him.”

“Rex… could probably…” Pyra answers slowly.

“Rex would, but,” Mythra adds, as further explanation.

Alvis understands, even though neither of them finished a sentence.

“I think he and Fiora would get along,” Alvis insists. “Call it intuition. Or maybe foresight. Not a destined path, but… one of much fortuity.”

“Who’s Fiora?” Mythra demands, and Pyra feels a little relieved, because she was wondering that too.

There’s a pause, as Alvis seems to decide his words. “She’s… a friend of mine,” he answers. With his words come echoes of images in Pyra’s mind. A young woman with strawberry blonde hair, a bright smile, eyes burning with excitement and determination both. And more than the images there’s a conveyed sense of information, impressions, her attitude and her voice. It makes Pyra feel almost as resolute as Alvis sounds when he says: “I think she would be a good fit for his temper, and certainly for his stubbornness.”

“Maybe we should give Malos some time, though,” Pyra suggests, running her fingers over her brother’s crystal again.

“Of course,” Alvis says. “I did not intend to rush.”

“Are you a blade?” Mythra asks, suddenly. Her eyes are fixed on Alvis—on his collarbone, where his core crystal should be, though instead there is nothing but an open circle of gold hanging from a black band around his neck.

“No,” Alvis says. Then he reconsiders. “Perhaps? It is difficult to say. This universe did not have blades before your universe was folded into it, and I believe the rules are different for me than they are for you, but… The concept of blade fits nicely, somehow, though I’m unfamiliar with it.”

He touches his fingers to the golden circle, closing his eyes. “And I suppose I _do_ have a driver, in a sense,” he continues, smiling softly. “I’d like you to meet him.”

“Is he with you?” Pyra asks, eyes scanning the beach for signs of any other life. Besides Rex and their other companions, she can’t sense anyone else, so it’s not a surprise when Alvis shakes his head.

“No,” Alvis answers. He sounds… disappointed? Perhaps a little wistful.

“Why not?” Mythra asks.

“While we might have the luxury of fast travel, that is a right reserved to us… Aegises,” Alvis explains, frowning as he does. “Aegises?” He tests the word like it’s unfamiliar to him. “That is correct, is it not?”

Pyra nods.

Mythra all-but gapes.

“We can _fast travel_?” She sounds delighted.

“Yes. Though I would recommend against either of you trying, at least immediately,” Alvis says. “I am relaying the geography of this world to you, but it’s going to take some time. Besides, we need to get your companions to civilization, and they cannot fast travel either.”

Mythra nods slowly, though Pyra thinks she must be a little disappointed. “How far is it to civilization?” she asks—trying to gather information, and beating Pyra to the punch, not that it matters. The question is asked, so they can both get the answer. But it is going to take some time getting used to being separate.

“A day’s journey,” Alvis answers, matter-of-fact. “But it is three days from here to where Shulk is.”

Based on the way he says Shulk’s name, Pyra’s pretty sure that’s his driver.

“Let me guess, you want to go that far?” Mythra asks with a raise of her eyebrows and arms crossed, leaning towards Alvis. She’s… _teasing_ him. The sight makes Pyra giggle a little, delighted in the wake of this foreign but very natural chain of events.

It’s hard to tell if Alvis blushes, but he does turn his head away slightly. “If your companions would not mind, yes. Shulk and his friends would be better at helping them decide where they’re going to settle than I would be, anyway.”

“I guess that’s fine,” Mythra says like she’s relenting some kind of big argument, though she isn’t really. She’s still smiling. “You’re coming with, right?”

Alvis looks offended she’d suggest otherwise. “Of course.”

“Good.”

Pyra watches them slip into what feels like very old, familiar if ill-used roles, and happiness fills her almost to bursting. An urge fills her, and she decides to go with it. She grabs Mythra by the forearm, steps towards Alvis and tugs Mythra with her, and pulls the two of them into a hug.

“Hey!” Mythra says, and “Oh,” Alvis says, but Pyra wraps her arms around their necks even if she has to pull Alvis down a little for it and she squeezes. After a moment Alvis’ arm loops around her back and he squeezes, too, and then a moment later Mythra gives in with a begrudging groan (she’s just trying to keep up appearances, Pyra knows) and hugs them back.

“It’s good to see you again,” Pyra whispers, forehead tucked into Alvis’ chest.

“Believe me, I feel the same,” Alvis whispers in return.

There’s a kind of weight to it, of relief and longing that’s kind of staggering, but Pyra isn’t even sure where to begin unravelling it and now isn’t the time.

“Come on!” she says, breaking the hug and letting go of Mythra, though she grips Alvis’ hand tightly. “Let’s go introduce you to Rex!”

Alvis laughs, exasperated, but he plays along.

**Author's Note:**

> [hey!! aera drew some really neat art of this!!! PLEASE LOOK AT IT!!!](https://twitter.com/bladecharge/status/1066123403260817408)


End file.
